


Led Astray

by Lhugy_for_short



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dominance, Fluff and Smut, Human-form werewolves, M/M, Mentions of Other Minor Characters - Freeform, One Shot, Prompto's got it bad, Werewolf AU, mostly smut tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:08:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22586143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lhugy_for_short/pseuds/Lhugy_for_short
Summary: Fleeing from Niflheim on the heels of war, Prompto - a desperate stray - finds himself confronted by a fearsome pack on the edge of Lucis' borders. Will the new alpha welcome him into his den, or leave him to the wolves?
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum
Comments: 7
Kudos: 161





	Led Astray

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CrossedQuills](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrossedQuills/gifts).



> For CrossedQuills, who requested "alpha" as a Promptio prompt and OF COURSE I WAS GONNA WRITE HER WEREWOLF SMUT because I know what my friends like lol. That being said, I don't write werewolves well, nor do I dare cross the thin line into A/B/O dynamics, so this is not quite either. Imagine they're werewolves, living in werewolf-like societies, with some kind of backstory or something...but they're also kinda human. 
> 
> ....I don't know either. Just go with it! 
> 
> Thanks for the suggestion, hun, hope you like how this turned out!

It had been an accident, stumbling across their den. Prompto should have paid more attention to the signs, to the scratches in the bark of the trees and the scents rubbed into the underbrush. Subtle warnings, to be sure, though his kind were meant to understand clearly enough. It should have been instinct for him. 

But Prompto had never encountered others like himself, at least not since he’d left Niflheim all those years ago. Six, he hadn’t even known there  _ were _ werewolves in Lucis, much less how to recognize when he’d crossed into their territory. He, an outsider, packless and reeking of fear, must have seemed an easy target to the two scouts on watch. By the time Prompto had even realized he was being tracked, it was too late to shake them off. 

And now - now he was running. 

His sneakers tore through the brush, skittering over roots and slick leaves as he dodged his pursuers. They had size on him - both broad, with powerful muscles beneath dark leather garb - but his advantage was his speed. Prompto had always been fast, learning as a pup to outrun Niflheim soldiers and Magitek hunters alike. It was likely the only thing that had saved his skin this long. But soldiers in heavy armor were nothing compared to the agility of two grown, fully trained werewolves in any form. Already they were closing in, he could hear their steady breaths between the trees whipping past. His heart pounded, adrenalin pumped through his veins. A last ditch - and ultimately futile - effort to escape before their teeth were close enough to sink into his neck.

A harsh laugh sounded somewhere behind him. “Run, run, pretty little rabbit….”

“We love our meat fresh and frightened.”

_ Crap! _ There had to be a way out of this up ahead, a stream or a drop or  _ something _ to put distance between them. If he could keep going just a little further, maybe he could--

The root came almost out of nowhere. Hooked around his ankles like a trap set in the shadows, and before he could even register the pain of it he was hitting the ground. Mercy might have seen fit to knock him unconscious, or snap his neck on the way down. As it was, he had just enough wits left to turn around as one of his attackers pounced. 

Steely grey eyes glowed with a feral light of their own above a toothy grin. Large fingers, powerful as a vice, clamped around his throat. “Tough luck, pretty rabbit,” the werewolf laughed, and drew his other hand back to deliver the final strike. 

Prompto didn’t remember closing his eyes. One second, he was facing down his own death; the next, he was gasping as the weight on top of him was flung aside, and a second, even more terrifying figure was hauling him to his feet. 

“Back!” the newcomer shouted, his voice booming hammer-like in the oddly quiet forest. “Both of you, knock it the fuck off!”

A soft whine. Prompto looked around one massive shoulder to see his attacker getting to his knees in the dirt. He kept his head bowed, and his arm clutched to his chest. “S-shit…that smarts.”

“Serves you idiots right. You’re supposed to be on watch, Furia, not a bloodhunt. The fuck is wrong with you two?” The large man turned his sights on the second of Prompto’s pursuers, who cowered under it like a leaf against a storm. 

“W-we thought he was one of the Empire’s pets,” he said in a spineless tone. “He snuck in like a--”

“Like what, Lazarus? A  _ spy?” _

Another whine, and Prompto felt his own knees quaking with it. 

The larger one, his rescuer, took a step forward as his voice boomed through the woods. “Get out of my sight. Both of you! If I catch you hunting without permission again, I’ll feed you to the pack myself.”

Footsteps retreating back the way they’d come was the only other sound in the forest. Prompto could barely hear them, though, over the drums beating inside his own ears. He felt sick with fear and exhaustion, yet both kept him rooted in place, unable to run from the figure now turning attention on him. Dark hair framing a stern face, bright golden eyes above a dark frown. A scar ran down from his forehead to his cheek, but Prompto didn’t need to see the evidence to understand. He could  _ smell _ what the man was as clear as a cloudless night.

_ Alpha.  _ Pack leader, brutal and fierce. No wonder the other two had fled like frightened pups before him. Instinct screamed for Prompto to run, too, but those eyes pinned him to the spot as sure as claws in his flesh.

“You alright?” The alpha moved closer, frown deepening. “They hurt you?”

“N-no. Yes! I m-mean, I’m fine!” Prompto dropped his hands to his side and tried not to tremble too obviously. “I mean, thank you...for saving me. Um…?”

“Gladio.”

“G-Gladio. Thank you.”

“You’re from Niflheim.” It wasn’t a question, and the directness of it made Prompto flinch. “It’s not safe to wander the wilds. Lucis is at war, and not everyone bothers to ask questions first. As you saw.”

Numbly, Prompto nodded his head. The smell was overpowering now, all musk and dominance as the alpha approached him. It demanded his full attention. “There’s blood on your leg. You’d better stick with me ‘til we get back to the den, or those two will be back to finish the job.”

“The...den?”

“What’s your name?” 

“Um. Prompto.” 

Golden eyes, more of a honeyed amber now that his anger had subsided, looked Prompto over from head to toe and back again. And he laughed. “Prompto, huh? At least it’s better than ‘rabbit’.” 

Gladio’s pack made their home in a sort of sprawling camp, Prompto discovered, and luckily for him it was close. Just a short walk to the east brought them to a clearing where tents and old, rusting vehicles - relics from an age before the Fall - formed rings around permanent campfires. Others sat together, chatting in low voices or roasting meat, but their eyes only lingered on Prompto for a second. One glance from their alpha had them all quickly minding their own business again. 

He stuck closer after that, not exactly trusting Gladio, but not having much other choice as the large werewolf led him past the main camp towards his own private den. The entrance to the cave was cleverly concealed by the roots of a fallen oak. And beyond, it opened into a surprisingly cozy room complete with a fur-lined bed, several handmade shelves and tables, and a hearth carved right into the rock. 

This was where Prompto was drawn first, unable to ignore the way the fire, even dying as it was, soothed the ache in his limbs, his tired muscles. Warmth slowly replaced the adrenalin that had lingered in his blood since his narrow brush with danger, and with it all the tension began to drain away. 

Given his position, perhaps he should have remained on guard while in the alpha’s den. But really, Prompto had never been much good at following his instincts. 

“How many of you are there?” The thought voiced itself as he gazed into the glow of the flames. He hadn’t meant to pry, not really, but the question helped to fill the silence, helped to distract his mind from the strangeness of the place - and his nose from the scent of Gladio’s musk permeating the very walls. 

Several more heartbeats passed before he received an answer. Gladio approached him at the fireplace, this time with his hands full of herbs, jars, and strips of cloth he’d taken from his shelves. “Our pack’s small. There’s fifteen of us left now. Used to be more, but the war’s tempted a few of the reckless ones to join the resistance on the border.”

Prompto shook his head. “Sounds like a lot to me. There weren’t any big packs left in Gralea, you know.” 

“I’ve...heard the rumors. Sit.” His voice was low but gentle, a tempered command that had Prompto eager to obey nonetheless. Before he could suck in a breath to answer, he was already kneeling at Gladio’s feet. “Let me see your leg.” 

The reaction was instant. Again, his own lack of hesitation as he rolled up his tattered pants took him by surprise, left his cheeks flushing with an unfamiliar heat. Gladio was handsome, sure, and had undoubtedly saved his life. But there was something more to it. An invisible energy that radiated off of him, confident and powerful, bending everything - Prompto included - to the alpha’s will. 

Large fingers brushed against his skin, and despite himself, he shivered. “U-um. What did you hear? About Gralea, I mean.” 

He followed the way amber eyes moved appraisingly over the cuts on his leg. “I heard they’re burning the forests. Killing our kind on sight. Word on the front is that the Empire’s army has weapons made of pure silver, not steel, and they’re just as deadly on humans as on wolves.”

Slowly, Prompto nodded. Wherever Gladio got his information, it was reliable, if a little outdated. Truth was, the forests outside Gralea had already been long destroyed - Prompto remembered a time when smoke and flames had risen endlessly into the dark sky. With nothing left to burn and nowhere left to run, the wolf packs of Niflheim faced inevitable annihilation at the hands of the Magiteks’ silver swords. 

That was why his family had sent him away. Why he was alone, wandering strange forests at the mercy of others like him. Like Gladio, and so many others who had been far less kind. 

“ _ Ow! _ ” Prompto jerked his ankle back on reflex as the bitter herbs stung again at his wounds. Though Gladio’s hand still gripped him, the larger werewolf quickly shifted to give him space to move. 

“Uh, sorry. I’m not…,” he started, face pulling tight in a grimace. “I’m not much of a healer.” He switched to a clean cloth, holding it down against Prompto’s leg until the pressure helped to alleviate the sting of the medicine. “You alright?”

“Y-yes. It’s fine, really. Um...thank you for helping me.” He was aware of the intensity in the amber eyes on him. The way Gladio searched his face for signs of pain, for fear, before resuming the task. Large fingers quickly smoothed more medicine over the cuts, while his low voice held the rest of Prompto’s attention. 

“I know I don’t look it now, but I was born and raised inside the walls of the Crown City. My family served the royal house for generations, and my father raised me to be loyal to the Caelums. It was because of them that we had peace between our kind and the humans for so long in Lucis.” As he spoke, he began to wrap a long strip of cloth around Prompto’s leg. Tight, firm, his fingers brushing over pale skin on each pass. “But the war is changing all that. King Noctis does what he can to maintain the balance, but even he won’t be able to protect us forever. That’s why we’ve got to stick together. Fighting amongst ourselves,  _ killing _ each other for sport - we’re just doing the Empire a favor by thinning our own ranks before they can get here.” 

Prompto was listening, he swore he was. Agreed, even, with everything Gladio said, but he was finding his own voice increasingly difficult to put to proper use. The alpha’s scent was undeniably strong now, the thick, earthy smell weighing in Prompto’s head like an anchor, keeping him transfixed to the spot as surely as Gladio’s hands on him. 

“None of us are strong enough to make it alone out there. If you need a place to stay….” 

It was  _ mostly _ subconscious the way Prompto spread his legs then, subtle but still enough to leave Gladio’s thoughts trailing off. Silence moved in to fill the void as heavy, swimming blues fixed on hard amber. As the alpha swallowed, and Prompto discovered that the sight of it thrilled him right down to his cock. 

“Are you…?” Gladio’s fingers, still gripping the cloth at Prompto’s ankle, tightened, glided a few inches up the back of his calf. “Are you in pain?” 

Slowly, the blond shook his head. Words could not have expressed what he was feeling in that moment. A need like nothing he’d ever experienced, a dangerous concoction of pheromones and adrenalin, instinct and the desire to  _ really  _ thank Gladio for saving his life. He knew, at least in theory, how alphas dominated their packs, but never before had he wanted so badly to be brought to his own knees by one. 

“Prompto…?”

Careful of his injuries, he slowly lowered himself back onto the floor of the den. It was dusty, hard, but the warmth of the fire surrounded him there. Left his skin glowing as he reached his arms up over his head in offering. Vulnerable, thighs falling to either side where Gladio already knelt between them; eyes lidded and lips parted in shallow breaths. Clothing hid the more obvious evidence of his lust, and yet there was no mistaking the invitation there should the alpha choose to take it. 

He did. Almost hesitantly at first as he crawled his way up Prompto’s body to hover above him. His amber eyes burned with questions - with one question in particular - but the energy between them spoke far more than words ever could. Prompto’s heart pounded in his chest to feel large, warm fingers moving up his leg, over his hip, under the hem of his shirt. When Gladio’s palm flattened against his stomach, Prompto’s breath hitched in his throat. Spilled out instead as a soft moan, and that was the only encouragement the alpha needed. 

With a groan he buried his face in the side of Prompto’s neck, jawline scratching deliciously at soft flesh. The scrape of teeth, hot and rough, left Prompto shuddering, and he brought his good leg up to lock Gladio into place against him. The weight of the alpha pressed his hips flush to the ground, one solid thigh eagerly grounding itself against the obvious hardness there, and Prompto gasped as pleasure spread through him like a flame. 

“Your scent.” Gladio’s voice was a growl against his neck, his ear, and the nip of teeth followed every syllable. “ _ Gods _ , you smell so good.” 

“ _ O-ohh _ .” 

“In the forest, I thought it was your fear. But this…. _ ” _ A tongue trailed up the throbbing pulse of his jugular. Beneath his clothes, the alpha’s hands were heating up his skin even as they worked to divest him of each layer. “I’ve never smelled anything like you.” 

Prompto was lifted off the ground, his shirt tugged over his head, and then Gladio was back, licking and biting his way down every inch of newly exposed chest. 

It was overwhelming. The fog of lust that had been gradually filling Prompto’s head weighed him down, made his movements languid as he rolled up into each and every touch. To think Gladio had been attracted to  _ his _ scent…. Prompto hadn’t missed the hardness that strained in the alpha’s pants, of course. Or the way corded muscles quivered with restraint, every fiber of that large body  _ wanting him.  _ Demanding his attention, leaving his own thighs trembling with the need to feel it closer. 

Gladio did not deny him. Now that pure need had taken over, neither could back down, neither knew how to stop. Prompto moaned in time with the fingers that tore at his pants, and tugged in turn at the black shirt keeping more of Gladio’s heat from him. With the alpha’s help it came away - and underneath was revealed a feast of dark ink feathering out across firm, scarred flesh. 

_ Tattoos _ . Massive ones, as intricate as they were intense. Prompto found himself mesmerized, his eyes widened at the sight even as the last of his clothing was cast aside on the floor. He drew his fingertips along the black lines, gasped both at the warmth of Gladio’s skin to his touch and at the hand slipping between his spread legs. His own body was willing,  _ eager _ , made even more so with the vision of dark ink bursting before his eyes, so that when Gladio’s thumb pressed against his opening he found little resistance. 

“ _ Prompto _ .” Voice husky, the alpha called to him. Distracted him with another kiss to the base of his throat, the side of his neck as that first digit pushed inside. Then a second, following quickly, impatiently, to work him open fast. Prompto drew his leg up higher around Gladio’s waist to accommodate. He moaned and whined, panted with need into the rim of the alpha’s ear, until a third finger joined the others inside him. 

It was almost too much. With his head swimming and his cock weeping into the space between their bodies, he was already rapidly losing the battle. All it took was Gladio’s fingers curling deep within him, up against that spot that was sending bursts of light through his vision, to unravel him completely. As he came, he rocked his hips desperately forward, seeking the heat and friction that the alpha’s thigh was all too eager to provide. 

Falling back to the dusty ground, Prompto watched the flicker of the hearth flames swim in his vision. Gladio was still poised above him. Still humming with low, rhythmic need, his fingers still gently plying him open at a steady pace. He waited for Prompto’s gaze to meet his again before making the next move. 

In his strong arms, Prompto felt he weighed next to nothing. So easily Gladio shifted him, turned him so that his knees brushed the ground and his back curved down in a natural arch. He felt large fingers sweep down the length of his spine, from this ass to the nape of his neck, and he let out a low whine of pure need. 

Gladio’s voice growled in answer. Animalistic, raw. Though he controlled his strength, tempering the force with which he spread Prompto’s cheeks, the drive there was unmistakable. The first pass of his clothed cock over Prompto’s hole left him breathless. The second had him pawing at the ground, his fingers cutting jagged lines through the dust. 

Thankfully, the alpha, too, seemed at the limit of his patience. By the time his weight returned a third time, he’d released himself from the front of his pants, and the heat of his cock was searing against Prompto’s bare skin. 

“A- _ ah! _ Gladio!”

“You alright?”

“ _ Mm _ .” Frantically, Prompto nodded, rolling his hips back to get the message across faster. He moaned as he felt the head of the alpha’s length catch at his opening. Clutched his hands into fists, his fingers biting at his palms, as Gladio began to push into him. Slowly at first, each inch stretching him wide,  _ so wide,  _ until most of its girth was buried deep within him. Then Gladio pulled back out at the same achingly slow pace, threatening to lift Prompto off the ground with the force of it.

After that, he stopped holding back. To the sound of Prompto’s increasingly desperate pleas, Gladio thrust into his body unrelenting. Chasing his own pleasure by the firelight even as the smaller werewolf’s cock burst with a second, still-powerful orgasm beneath him. Instinct drove them both on. A combination of pheromones and the need for comfort in the long night. An inexplicable attraction between an alpha and a stray, both seeking something deeper in the other, and finding it where their bodies became one. 

Gladio’s growl rumbled through them both when he came, at last, with a final, impressive thrust. Prompto trembled to feel the warmth of it filling him. His eyes fluttered closed, rolled back, and as Gladio draped himself over his body, he smiled dreamily.

_ Yes _ , he thought, warm lips seeking out the side of his neck, teeth scraping over his jaw.  _ Claim me. Make me yours.  _

The last thing he remembered before falling asleep was being lifted from the ground into a strong pair of arms. Being carried over to the single bed in the room, and laid out atop soft furs. Being wrapped in Gladio’s warmth, and turning to kiss his alpha - his mate - on his full, beautiful lips. 

“Stay?” Gladio asked.

“ _ Yes _ , “ he answered softly. And buried his face against the side of his neck until  _ Gladio _ was all he could smell. 


End file.
